The mic screeched like a dying cat as Joker yanked it from Selina Kyle's grip. The entire crowd cringed. Not just because of the sound—though, let's be honest, it was terrible—but because the worst possible person in Gotham now had the floor.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! And super-powered busybodies who just love sticking their noses where they don't belong!" Joker spread his arms like a circus ringmaster welcoming his next act. "Welcome to the grand opening of the Gotham Centre of the Lily Potter Foundation! A noble cause, truly. Helping all those sad little metahumans find a brighter future. Sniff. It almost brings a tear to my eye."
His grin stretched wider. Too wide. Like, please stop stretching your face wide.
"So naturally, I figured, why not join in on this joyous occasion? I mean, really, what's a Gotham event without a little… entertainment?"
The heroes on stage tensed immediately. Shadowflame, son of Wonder Woman, was already calculating about a thousand ways to take him down. Supergirl hovered just a few inches off the ground, her fists clenched. Starfire's eyes glowed green, her hands shimmering with energy. Princess Mareena, standing tall with her usual royal confidence, gave a subtle nod to Miss Martian, whose face shifted through a few different expressions—excitement, concern, the universal ugh, this guy again face.
Robin and Batgirl were the closest to Selina, both shifting into defensive stances. Robin's fingers twitched toward his belt, ready to throw something batarang-shaped at Joker's head.
Which was exactly when Joker pulled out a tiny device.
A small, red button.
"I wouldn't do that, Bird Boy," Joker sang, wagging a finger at Robin. "Unless you'd like to see Gotham go up in a lovely shade of boom."
The air in the plaza froze.
Shadowflame's jaw tightened. "You're bluffing."
"Aw, that's cute! You think I bluff." Joker wiggled the detonator. "I assure you, kiddo, I am one bad pun away from turning this city into a fireworks display that would make even the Fourth of July jealous!"
Supergirl shot Shadowflame a look. "Please tell me you have a plan."
"Oh yeah, absolutely," he muttered. "Step one: don't let Gotham explode. Step two: … I'll figure it out as I go."
"Wow," Miss Martian said, her voice full of mock admiration. "Truly, the greatest strategic mind of our generation."
"I try."
Joker turned his attention to Robin, tilting his head. "So, Bird Boy, what's it gonna be? Which shadow is the Bat gonna jump out of this time?" He spun around theatrically, arms raised. "No? Not yet? Aww, I was hoping for an early appearance. Guess I'll just have to make this a real party."
"Puddin'," Harley pouted, stepping up beside him. "You always gotta go straight for the boom! Can't we ever just steal some cake, dance a little, maybe wreck a building without explosives?"
Joker beamed. "Oh, my dear Harley, that's adorable! But you know me—I love a grand finale."
Shadowflame's eyes narrowed. "You know, for a guy obsessed with chaos, you really love repeating the same old tricks."
Joker gasped, placing a hand over his chest. "Ohhh, ouch! Right in the ego! You wound me, kiddo!" Then he grinned again. "But let's be real—this works every time. The bomb, the panic, the terrified little citizens… chef's kiss perfection."
Galatea folded her arms, unimpressed. "Yeah, except every time, you lose."
Joker spun toward her, wiggling his fingers dramatically. "Oooh, it's Baby Blonde of Steel! Here to punch me into next Tuesday, are we?"
Galatea smirked. "Tempting. But honestly? I don't feel like scraping clown guts off my suit today."
Harley giggled. "Ooo, burn!"
Zatanna, who had been quiet up until now, let out a very dramatic sigh. "You know, for someone who considers himself Gotham's greatest showman, you're so predictable."
Joker's eye twitched. "Predictable?"
Selina, who had been watching the chaos unfold with the unimpressed expression of someone who really didn't get paid enough for this, finally decided to chime in. "Oh, please. A public event, a big explosion, and some half-baked speech about chaos? Honey, I've dated men more original than you."
Joker blinked. Then he grinned. "Ohhh, I like you, Kitty Cat."
Selina rolled her eyes. "Hard pass."
Robin, who had been watching all of this with an expression that just screamed I have the patience of a saint, finally spoke up. "So, Joker, let me get this straight: your big plan is to hold Gotham hostage, annoy us for fifteen minutes, and then get thrown back into Arkham?"
Joker's grin faltered. Just slightly.
"Oh, I love him," Mareena whispered.
"Yeah," Miss Martian agreed. "Robin's really good at this."
Joker forced a chuckle. "Oh, my dear Bird Boy, you underestimate me. See, this time, I have an ace up my sleeve."
"You mean the bomb?" Batgirl deadpanned. "Because, again—seen it before."
Joker's eye twitched again. "Well, uh, what about the real surprise?" He waved his hand dramatically, as if expecting something to happen.
Nothing happened.
Harley frowned. "Puddin'?"
Joker glanced around. "Uh… give it a second…"
Silence.
The heroes all exchanged looks.
Supergirl raised an eyebrow. "Did you forget your master plan?"
Joker cleared his throat. "Okay, fine! Maybe the timing is a little off! But trust me—any second now, something big is gonna happen!"
Harley sighed. "You forgot, didn't ya?"
Joker huffed. "Harls, please. I never forget."
Miss Martian tilted her head. "Sooo… this is a total disaster, right?"
Shadowflame smirked. "Oh yeah."
Joker scowled. "Okay, that's it, I'm pressing the—"
Before he could finish, Shadowflame moved.
One second, he was standing still. The next, he had Joker's wrist in a vice grip.
Joker's eyes went wide. "Oh."
Shadowflame smirked. "Guess what? Boom."
And then, in a move that could only be described as absolute perfection, he twisted Joker's arm just enough to make the detonator go flying—right into Zatanna's waiting hands.
Joker blinked.
"Oh, that was so satisfying," Galatea muttered.
Zatanna twirled the detonator between her fingers. "And presto—no more boom." She snapped her fingers, and the device disappeared in a puff of magical smoke.
Joker opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then sighed. "Well. That's unfortunate."
Harley let out an exaggerated groan. "Ugh! This is so embarrassing."
Shadowflame crossed his arms. "So, are we done here? Or do you wanna keep pretending you're a mastermind?"
Joker grumbled. "I hate Gotham."
Robin grinned. "Right there with you, buddy."
—
You ever have one of those moments where you think, Hey, I won!—only for the universe to respond with a smug little lol, nope?
Yeah. Welcome to my life.
Joker was down. Cuffed. Contained. Tossing out one-liners like a stand-up comedian on too much caffeine.
Harley sat next to him, swinging her legs like a kid at a bus stop, all oh no, Mistah J, whatever shall we do? even though we all knew damn well she'd be out of Arkham in, like, three days.
Everything should've been wrapped up.
Then some jackass across the street pulled up with a launcher.
A launcher. In Gotham. Broad daylight. Full news coverage. My soul actually sighed.
Joker grinned up at me like a proud dad watching his kid's first felony. "Ah, there he is! Right on cue! And with the grand finale in hand! You heroes really should keep an eye on your surroundings."
Then, because he has zero chill, he stage-whispered, "Oh, and Flamey? It's heat-seeking."
Faaaantastic.
With a whoosh, my fire-wings erupted from my back, bathing the street in a warm, slightly apocalyptic glow. Instantly, the launcher's targeting system latched onto me like a needy ex.
Aaaand then the guy fired.
The missile screamed forward.
The entire street gasped.
I had exactly one second to react.
"Well, sht.*"
I kicked off the ground, shooting skyward like a bottle rocket on steroids. "Deedee! Tell the team to sweep Gotham for bombs. Oh, and make sure Joker and Harley get delivered to GCPD gift-wrapped."
Deedee—who, by the way, is literally Death in the form of a big-tiddy goth with a questionable sense of humor—chimed in over the comms. "Aww, but you'd look so cute as a fireball."
"Hard pass."
"Fine, fine. Just don't die. Unless—"
"Deedee."
"—I get your wardrobe?"
"You are so not worthy."
"Pfft. Rude."
I didn't have time to deal with my undead girlfriend's fashion crisis, because—oh yeah—there was a heat-seeking missile trying to turn me into a Fourth of July special.
I pushed higher, faster, my fire-wings leaving a trail of embers across Gotham's smoggy skyline. The missile locked in.
I grinned.
"Come on, you oversized firecracker. Let's dance."
And I dove.
Straight down.
"Oh my god, what is he doing?" That was Zatanna, somewhere below, sounding very done with my life choices.
"I believe he's playing with the missile," Starfire said, somehow both impressed and concerned. "Like a Tamaranean child with a new pet!"
Supergirl's voice cut in. "Yeah, except his pet explodes."
"Ohhh, Shadowflame does that all the time," Miss Martian chimed in cheerfully. "It's like, a thing."
Robin, ever the responsible one, sighed. "How does that make it better?"
Meanwhile, I was busy turning physics into my personal chew toy.
At the last possible second, I snapped my wings shut and rolled, twisting my body sideways in a maneuver that should have broken every law of aerodynamics. The missile just barely corrected course, nearly slamming into a rooftop before adjusting and whipping back around.
I shot upward again, my wings blazing brighter, my heat climbing.
The missile wouldn't switch targets now. It was locked in, and I wasn't giving it a chance to second-guess itself.
With every maneuver—looping, rolling, flipping the bird at physics—I kept the heat output climbing. My wings stretched wider, hotter, impossible to ignore. Every time it got close, I barely dodged, teasing it along like a matador with a bull.
Behind me, I heard Batgirl over the comms. "Okay, is it bad that I kind of want to see where this goes?"
"Yes," Mareena deadpanned. "Extremely."
"...But also same?" Galatea added.
Zatanna groaned. "Ugh. Fine. But if he dies, I'm saying 'I told you so' at the funeral."
"Relax," I muttered, adjusting course for the harbor. "I'm not gonna die."
"You say that every time!"
"And yet," I shot back, grinning, "here I am, still sexy."
I could see Gotham Harbor now. The dark waters stretched out ahead, a perfect landing zone for a wayward missile if I could get the angle right.
One shot. Had to make it count.
I adjusted my flight path, ramping the flames up even more—
Robin's voice cut in. "Wait. Is he actually—?"
Three… two…
And then, with one last burst of speed—
I dove straight for the water.
—
Okay, quick question: What do you get when you combine a missile, a ridiculously high-speed explosion, and a guy with wings of fire? If you said "instant crispy Harry," congratulations, you're wrong. But you're also about 50% there, so at least you're close.
The missile was right there, and for a moment, I had this weird out-of-body experience. It was like the universe was saying, "Hey, Harry, here's a fun little test. How do you plan on dodging this one?" Yeah, thanks, Universe. Real considerate.
So there I am, wings spread wide and burning hot—like, seriously hot. Like "I could cook marshmallows with my back heat" hot. The missile's coming for me, and I'm thinking, This is it. There's no way to outrun this thing. It's got my name on it.
But then? I do what any self-respecting fire-wielding hero would do.
I disapparate.
BAM. Just like that. No dramatic poof. No fanfare. One moment, I'm looking at the missile like it's the world's worst firework, and the next, I'm gone.
But here's where it gets fun—remember those wings I mentioned? Yeah, those fiery little beauties didn't just disappear. Oh no, they stayed with me, like clingy exes who just won't take a hint.
The afterburn hit like a freight train. I'm talking full-on jet engine mode. Flames ripped through the air in a violent rush, turning the sky into a furnace. I mean, seriously, it wasn't fire anymore. It was like the sun had decided to throw a temper tantrum.
The missile? Well, it didn't stand a chance. As it sank into the water, the wings—my wings—wrapped around it like a giant fiery bear hug. There was an explosion, of course, because it's Gotham, and of course, explosions are just part of the ambiance.
But here's the part that really counts: I absorbed the blast.
No joke.
The missile hissed into the water, and the flames from my wings expanded like they were in a race to see how much heat they could soak up before Gotham's water supply had a meltdown. There was this crazy, thunderous sound as the energy rushed through me, but guess what? I just stood there like I was waiting for my coffee at the café. Casual. Cool. Like I was on a first-name basis with explosions.
Then came the BOOM. You know, the one that could probably be heard from space? That one.
Gotham's Harbour turned into a steam bath of destruction. Waves churned. Smoke billowed up like a bad hair day in the atmosphere. And me?
Yeah, I was perfectly fine.
I reappeared—no, appeared—standing at the edge of Gotham Harbour like I had totally planned for this moment. Like I was just out for a walk or something. My wings still blazing with the afterglow of pure chaos, and the entire damn harbour in disarray.
Deedee's voice crackled in my ear, and for once, she sounded impressed. "Well, well. Look at you, hot stuff. Thought we were gonna need a new team leader there for a sec."
I threw a glance over my shoulder, taking in the smoke curling up over the harbour like the aftermath of a dragon's BBQ. "I always pull it off, babe. You should know that by now."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," she quipped. "But that doesn't mean I'm not stealing your wardrobe when we get back. Those wings? C'mon. They're practically a fashion statement."
I flipped her off playfully, still looking at the wreckage. "Try and take them, Deedee. These wings are exclusive."
She laughed through the comms, and I could practically hear the smirk in her voice. "If by exclusive you mean 'totally going to be auctioned off on eBay later,' sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night."
"Don't hate me because I'm beautiful." I swiped a hand through the air, watching the embers from my wings float away like a trail of glitter after a wild party. "I'd give you my autograph, but you know, it's all sold out already."
There was a sudden whoosh, and I turned just in time to see Supergirl flying in from the sky, a blur of blonde hair and blue spandex. She came to a halt beside me, her eyes scanning the area like she was waiting for some new catastrophe to rear its ugly head.
"Could've given me a heads up, Shadowflame," she teased, landing next to me with that "I'm way too cool for school" vibe she's got going. "I was getting real worried about you. Thought you might finally take up permanent residence in Gotham Bay."
I threw up my hands, pretending to be offended. "Me? Die in a missile explosion? Pfft. Not my style."
"Obviously," Supergirl said, raising an eyebrow. "You're just too good for that."
"Damn straight," I grinned. "Wouldn't dream of letting you all have all the fun. Someone has to save Gotham from its own bad decisions."
"You're such a showoff," Zatanna chimed in, her voice light and teasing, like she was giving me an imaginary eye-roll from across the comms. "Should've seen you at the 7-Eleven the other day. You nearly started a fire with all that flair."
"Right?" I laughed. "Who knew coffee and my fire powers were such a lethal combination?"
"Don't encourage him, Zatanna," Batgirl added in her gruff, but fond voice. "We've got a city to save, and I don't need him setting fire to every street corner with his flamboyant entrances."
"Oh, come on, Batgirl," I protested, throwing up my hands like I was caught in the middle of an unjust drama. "You love it. Everyone loves a good dramatic entrance. Admit it!"
"You're lucky I don't throw you into the water right now," she shot back, but even I could hear the affectionate grin in her voice. "Do you even know how much trouble you caused with that?"
"I don't know, but I did just stop Gotham from having a nuclear meltdown, so I'd say it's all worth it." I paused dramatically, trying to think of something profound to say. "And Gotham's got me. So, really, we're all winners here."
"You really are something else," Robin said with a smirk in his voice. "But seriously, nice job, Shadowflame. We've got the rest of the bombs locked down, and no one got fried today. Well, except for you..."
"Nice. Real nice, Robin." I shot him a wink. "Glad someone's got my back."
Miss Martian's voice came through next, soft and teasing. "Well, don't get too cocky. You might just end up getting burned one of these days, you know?"
"Sweetheart, I'm already on fire." I grinned, watching my wings flicker and flare, sending another trail of embers into the air. "But don't worry. I always land on my feet."
Gotham Harbour might've been quiet for the moment, but I knew better than to get comfortable. Joker was always a step ahead—and if I didn't keep my eye on him, the fireworks wouldn't be over yet.
With a final glance at the team, I flared my wings and took off into the sky again, ready for whatever chaos Gotham had in store next.
Let the madness begin.
—
I tore through the Gotham skyline, leaving a trail of fire that made me look like I'd just escaped Hell's literal back door. Seriously, if Gotham ever needed a distraction, they could just hire me to take a lap around the city—no bombs, no supervillains, just me and my wings of pure, blazing chaos.
I checked my comms. Deedee's voice was already doing its best to cut through the night's tension with sarcasm. "Nice of you to join us, Shadowflame. Was that a dramatic exit or a new fire safety technique?"
I grinned, flames flickering across my wings like a bad day in a Hellfire Club. "What can I say? I'm an artist when it comes to making an entrance. Gotham Harbor's got one less missile problem thanks to yours truly." I couldn't help but throw in a little flair, flicking my wings to catch the light. "No sweat. Impressive, right?"
Zatanna's voice, as dry as ever, chimed in. "Impressive? More like absurd. Please tell me you're not planning on starting an Instagram for your heroics now?"
"#ShadowflameIsOnFire has a certain ring to it," I teased. As I glided closer to the team, the heat from my wings faded into a soft afterglow, the faintest flicker of embers dancing in the air like little fireflies.
Robin, perched on the edge of the roof like a brooding pigeon, gave me the kind of eye-roll that could rival a teenager being forced to clean their room. "You really are impossible."
I landed softly, letting the flames dissipate as I straightened my suit. "Aw, you love me. But enough about me, what's the damage? Joker and Harley on their way to the GCPD, right? At least that's one problem we don't have to babysit."
"Yeah," Batgirl muttered, her fingers flying across her tablet as she concentrated. "But we've still got to find the rest of those bombs before Gotham's skyline gets turned into a fireworks show."
Miss Martian's voice came through next, sweet but with that innocent edge. "It's almost like he wants Gotham to implode."
"Really? I hadn't noticed." I rolled my eyes, scanning the city below. "Joker's idea of subtlety is like a sledgehammer in a glass shop. Gotta give him credit though, the guy's never boring."
Galatea, arms crossed and scowling as usual, added, "Another round of 'find the bombs'... Because that's always such a fun game."
"Gotham isn't exactly known for its 'simple' problems," Supergirl said, her voice radiating that sun-kissed confidence she carried like a badge of honor. "We just need to figure out where Joker's hiding the matches. Gotham's basically a powder keg at this point."
I was about to make some snarky comment about how much fun bomb hunting was when suddenly, two figures stepped out from the shadows like they'd just crawled out of a comic book. One was tall and built like a tank, the other… well, a girl who looked like she'd rather be anywhere but here.
"Uh…" The girl spoke up, awkward and nervous as she shuffled her hoodie sleeves. "So, um, are we… doing this?"
The guy with the metal arm—definitely not your average street thug—pulled off his hoodie to reveal a shiny, mechanical body. "Name's Cyborg. And this is… uh, Sarah."
Robin blinked, then his eyes locked on the guy with the metal arm. A slight flicker of recognition crossed his face. "Wait. Victor Stone?"
Cyborg—or Victor Stone, as it turns out—stopped mid-sentence and gave Robin a confused look. "How do you—?"
Robin crossed his arms and tilted his head, clearly pleased with himself. "Oh, come on. You're Victor Stone. Quarterback of Gotham Academy, right?"
Victor chuckled bitterly. "Yeah, was the star quarterback. Don't think I'd make the cut now, though. Not with... all this going on."
"Well, you're still a walking tank," I said, grinning. "How is that not the ultimate cheat code for football?"
Victor shrugged, tapping his mechanical arm. "Yeah, well, it's not exactly the same when you can't feel your legs the way you used to."
The girl, Sarah, stepped forward awkwardly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "So… we've dealt with Joker-level chaos before, and figured we could help. Victor's got this neural interface that lets him hack into pretty much any system. It's like a supercharged GPS. He can tap into Gotham's network and find those bombs faster than you can say 'bomb squad'."
"Wait, wait," I interrupted, raising a hand like I was about to ask the most important question of the day. "You're saying Victor can hack into everything? Like, all of Gotham's systems? Dude's basically a walking Wi-Fi hotspot?"
Sarah grinned. "Pretty much. We just need a little space to get everything synced up."
Zatanna, always the skeptic, raised an eyebrow. "So, you're telling me that you can just… sync with Gotham's security grid? No passwords, no hacking dramas?"
Victor flashed a grin that said, get ready to be impressed. "No passwords. Just give me access to the grid, and I'll do the rest."
Batgirl looked him over, clearly weighing the situation. "I've seen some serious tech in my time, but this is next level. You sure you can pull this off?"
Victor gave her a pointed look, his mechanical arm twitching like it was ready to get to work. "Trust me. I can track down every bomb Joker's got hidden in this city. We'll have this cleaned up faster than Gotham can say 'Worst Day Ever.'"
Robin stepped forward, giving Victor a long look. "Alright. Let's do this. Gotham's got enough problems without Joker's bombs adding to the list."
I threw my hands up in the air. "Finally! Someone who gets it! Let's burn through this—figured, not literally, but you know what I mean." I flapped my wings again, sending embers into the air like confetti. "Let's wrap this up, and then maybe we can grab some pizza or—"
"You're buying, right?" Deedee's voice cut in with perfect timing, like she'd been waiting for the moment.
"Of course," I said, winking at the comms. "But only if it's extra cheesy."
Victor grinned. "Then let's get to work."
And just like that, the team gathered together, ready to track down Joker's bombs, save Gotham from itself, and probably cause more chaos along the way. But hey, it's Gotham. It's not like things ever stay quiet for long.
—
I watched as Victor stood there, his eyes wide and unblinking, like he'd just downloaded the entire internet and now had to read through every single page. Honestly, if I didn't know better, I'd swear he was auditioning for a role in a sci-fi movie where the hero was a human Wi-Fi router. He looked about as alive as a brick wall.
"Okay, so we just stand here and watch him do his 'syncing with Gotham' thing, right?" I asked, arms crossed, trying my best to look chill while feeling like my insides were doing somersaults. Gotham's always been like that one party you go to because someone invites you, but no one really wants you there—and it always feels like the whole thing's about to explode. Literally.
Batgirl—Barbara Gordon if we're being official—rolled her eyes and slid her back down the wall, her arms crossed like she was daring Gotham to try and ruin her mood. If anything, the more she watched Victor, the tighter her grip on her batarangs got. You could practically see her running calculations in her head, looking for the nearest way to get this over with.
"Give him a second," she said, clearly trying to sound patient, but we all knew it was just code for 'please don't make me get involved right now.'
So there we were, standing around like a band of misfits on a field trip, while Victor just… stood there. It was like watching a robot decide whether to download an update or throw a tantrum. I half expected him to start humming the theme song to 2001: A Space Odyssey.
Deedee, who had been twiddling with a piece of scrap metal for the past five minutes, broke the silence. "This feels like that time I tried to watch a cooking show but ended up staring at the blender for fifteen minutes and still didn't know what the heck was happening."
"I feel that," I said, grinning. "But you have to admit, this is some next-level 'hacker in the matrix' vibe. Too bad it's a bit… anticlimactic. You know, for now."
Victor didn't even twitch. "You guys don't get it," he said, voice full of that self-assured, "I'm a genius, deal with it" tone. "I'm syncing with Gotham's entire grid right now. This city's basically one giant rat maze of tech, and I've got the map."
Honestly, I was about to open my mouth and make a joke about him being the "Google Maps for Gotham" when suddenly—bam—his head jerked like he'd just gotten a ping on his internal GPS.
"Alright," Victor said, his face lighting up like he'd just cracked the Da Vinci code. "I've got the locations. Joker's bombs? Everywhere. But get this, they're all in the weirdest places."
Robin—aka the one with the eyebrows that could probably cut glass—raised an eyebrow. "Weird like how?"
Victor turned, dramatically swiping a hand through the air like he was on a game show. "Okay, okay, ready? First one's in a rubber duck at Gotham Harbor. Yeah, you heard me right. A giant rubber duck. I don't even want to know how that happened. Another one's in a hot dog stand. Like, how do you even get a bomb into one of those without the world's worst Yelp review?"
"Joker has no chill," I muttered, rubbing my temples. Gotham had a lot of weirdness, but this? This was peak insanity.
"And it gets better," Victor continued, eyes practically gleaming now. "There's a bomb in the Bat-Signal. Literally inside the Bat-Signal. Like, Joker's gonna make sure the last thing Batman sees is his own symbol blowing up in his face."
I stared at Victor, blinking like I'd just walked into a room full of clowns juggling chainsaws. "Wait, you're telling me that someone thought, 'Hey, why not literally blow up Gotham's biggest symbol of hope'? That's… both stupid and genius. I hate him."
Deedee, who clearly had no filter, piped up, "Oh, that's cute. Next, he'll hide one in the Batcave fridge with a note that says, 'You're out of almond milk.'"
Victor, not skipping a beat, added, "I wouldn't put it past him. But yeah, there's one under a park bench, buried under a pile of stray cats."
"That's the part where I draw the line," Zatanna said, glancing at the rest of us. "A park bench bomb? Joker's clearly been spending too much time on Reddit. What's next? A bomb inside a vintage comic book store?"
I snorted. "If that happens, I'm so out of here. No way I'm dealing with this level of nonsense."
But before we could keep ragging on Joker's poor taste in bomb locations, Victor held up a finger. "Hold on, hold on. I'm still downloading all the coordinates. You know, the 'I'm a high-tech superhero, please be patient' kind of stuff."
I grinned, already getting ready for my next big, heroic entrance. "Sure thing, robo-man. Take your time. I'll be over here, creating the most dramatic superhero moment of the century."
Victor's eyes flickered. "Seriously, can you not?"
Robin shot me a look that could freeze a volcano. "Just remember, this is Gotham. You can't just go full-on 'epic entrance' every time we need to save the city."
"Yeah, yeah," I said, rolling my eyes, "I got it. No grand speeches or flying through windows this time. But I am making this memorable."
Zatanna smirked, "As long as you're not setting off fire alarms with your flame-wings, I'm fine with it."
"Don't worry, I've got this," I said, winking at Batgirl. "For you, Batgirl, I'll keep the fire level to a mild roast. Maybe a light toast on the side."
Victor finally clicked his tongue, pulling us out of our banter. "Alright, coordinates locked and synced. Let's do this, people. You all go hit those bombs. I'll keep track of the ones we've missed."
And with that, the gang split up like the dysfunctional family we were, heading off into the chaos of Gotham. The city's about to feel the full wrath of its favorite troublemakers, and honestly? I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
[And if Gotham ends up in ruins, well, at least we'll be famous for something, right?]
---
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